Inside Outside


36″ x 36″ Acrylics on Canvas

The world is ablaze, and everyday, the fire reaches in more and more. More and more everyday, I try to stave off it’s heat for fear of going up in flames, of being consumed. More and more everyday, the outside threatens to become the inside.

But I won’t let it.

Not until I have this breath, this light, this birdsong, and the firm belief that there is more kindness and love in this world than fire and meanness. And I see that kindness and love everyday in the voices raised against injustice. That is what I choose to believe and focus on.

Kindness and love.

Be the light.





Loose, loose, loose….

Much better…

The  more I write, the more I draw and paint, the more I realise how important it is to stay true to your own voice. When the art flows naturally, it feels right, it belongs. The judgement falls away making room for acceptance and for being.

So here’s to staying true to our inner voice.

Rock on!!

I do need that sunlight.

It has been a long couple of weeks since I looked out the window, since I lifted my face to the sun. It has been cloudy and I have been too intent on this little screen that brings the world onto my lap.

Too intent.

But the sun could not be ignored today, nor the cardinal that visits everyday,
and my favourite tree that, in the heart of spring, leans, ripe with berries,
over the deck and offers it’s fruit to my lips, my mouth, my hands stained purple.



That tree, that cardinal, this sunlight, my eyes gazing at them with silent recognition of how much they mean to me, how much I have missed them in just two weeks.

The world is still out there with all it’s messy, gritty, complicated beauty.

But for now, this sunlight, me, this simple respite of an hour or two, and my foolish desire for a beautiful, albeit, a simpler world.

Hope you are taking a respite, too, to rest your souls.

Take care of yourselves out there. Look after yourselves and each other.


A few weeks ago, I participated in a week long exercise offered by Liberated lines, which, in their own words was about:

“one free week of sweet and soulful prompts to launch your self into the newness of the upcoming year.”

Be more you.

“Seven days of daily devotion to your own words and creative spark can be like magic in your hands and heart. Just the kind of magic you’ve been seeking. Be more you.”

Every day they offered a word prompt and we were asked to write our thoughts based on that word, without worrying about it being correct, or just so, or neat, or tidy, or what have you. We were encouraged to just let it flow naturally. It was awesome!!

One of the prompts offered was ‘Bones’. And this is what I shared:

Skin on skin,
the soft pressure of bone on bone,
joined in prayer,
I have my grandmother’s hands,
and my mother’s cheekbones,
her shoulders and broad back
but my father’s eyes
and love of literature.
My spine is my own though,
always curved, much to my mother’s chagrin
and I am sure my grandmother’s.
They are like that, straight backed,
warm and sincere and brave to their bones.
The deep cave of my hips though, the bones that tangle there
and help hold a child, I cannot tell us apart.
I see my mother there, and my grandmother,
and her mother, and that is how it goes,
beyond the measure of time and memory.
I am a part and apart, and buried,
and burrowed deep
within these borrowed bones.


Random Tandem.

Fall into silence.

Write, write your soul free.


Buddha under the tree.

Wings in flight.

Lichen patchwork and green moss.

Grey skies and a cloud of snow.

The light behind my eyes.

The weight of words.

Curling around a book.

The heaviness of sleepy eyes.

A parody of dreams.

Sleep, sleep, sleep now

and wake up to dancing light.

The song of Fall.

This is what happiness looks like
This light, this love,
this colour.
How the sun loves this season.
Hopping from leaf to leaf
lighting up the souls of roots
and trees,
and that lone, mute wanderer,
with eyes that fill her face
and a voice lost somewhere
along the sidewalks and silent woods,
content to fill her body with
the rustles of fallen leaves
and the dappled golden light.
This is all I need to know of life,
of light, of love.
This becoming,
and then this glorious, blazing



Crowns of blue.


Of Crowns and Things. Acrylics on Canvas. 8″ x 10″

I love painting abstract-ish paintings. I like their looseness, their spontaneity, their expansiveness. There are no boundaries and anything goes. I really like the way this one turned out! Happiness is me! 🙂